


Delirium

by Dante_Morgan



Series: Haven & Related Works [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Bondage, Choking, Demonic Possession, Dominance, Hardcore, Kinktober, M/M, Other, Self-cest, Shapeshifting, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27314950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dante_Morgan/pseuds/Dante_Morgan
Summary: Just how far would the Demon go in his quest to make Ichigo break?With rapidly dwindling inhibitions and a single-minded focus on exploring the all-new realms of pleasure that the Demon's shapeshifting abilities open up to him, it is only a matter of time before Ichigo crosses a line... and keeps right on going from there.The only question is, will Grimmjow manage to endure that sweet punishment long enough for Ichigo to regain his senses?
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: Haven & Related Works [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1012200
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	Delirium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Owari26](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owari26/gifts).



> I did my best to add in all the most relevant ones but... well, just go ahead and assume the listed tags don't include every possible kink that's gonna be showing up in here. There's a lot of them >_>
> 
> I wrote this for my good friend Owari's birthday (I was only late by like three months, don't judge me) and figured it was kinky in a way that was just the right shade of disturbing to qualify as both a Kinktober _and_ a Halloween fic, so here we are.
> 
> Just as an FYI: you don't need to have read Haven to be able to enjoy the smut that's happening in here. There's honestly very little plot involved. On the other hand, this _does_ spoil one of the big twists that happens right near the end of Haven, but only in the vaguest possible way. If you're alright with that, then read right on!

“I put up with a lot of your shit Kurosaki, but this? This right here is what peak fucking stupid looks like.”

Ignoring the palpable aura of judgment Grimmjow was radiating at him, Ichigo continued to stare with morbid fascination at the fingers of his own right hand, which now sported talons the length of his entire forearm.

“Would you quit whining? I’ve got this!” Ichigo assured him, gleefully swiping his newly-grown armaments through the air and feeling a childlike sense of joy at the _whoosh-_ sounds they kept on making as he did.

“You’re using the power of a psycho Demon God just to fuck around!” Grimmjow bitched at him from where he sat in a slouch on the edge of Ichigo’s bed. He clearly wasn’t worked up enough to actually go intervening any time soon, in spite of his heated protests. “Since when can you even do that shit, anyway?!”

“I never tried before!” Ichigo admitted, laughing in amazement as the skin of his arm first hardened into reptilian scales, and then promptly sprouted a plumage of ebony feathers. “I was too scared I’d end up losing control if I tapped into Angra’s powers.”

_“Then why the fuck are you doing it now?!”_

The feathers and claws vanished again as quickly as they’d appeared, and Ichigo balled his fists, scrunching up his brow in concentration. “It’s been ages since he tried to pull anything—I’m pretty sure he’s gotten too weak by now to do any actual damage. Now shut up a second; I wanna see if I can grow Wolverine claws.”

Grimmjow blinked in bewilderment for a second or two. “Wait, are you talking about the animal or the— _oh my fucking god you meant the guy from the cartoon.”_

Ichigo, too preoccupied with freaking out over the six blade-like claws that came jutting out from the back of both hands, barely heard him. “This is so goddamn cool,” he muttered with starry-eyed delight. “...Though I don’t think these are actually made out of Adamantium.”

“Yeah, because that’s not a fucking thing, dipshit.”

Ichigo turned to regard Grimmjow with a crooked smirk. “…Are you just jealous because these are objectively cooler than your claws?”

A pronounced vein on Grimmjow’s temple instantly swelled to three times its prior size. “Oh that is _it,”_ he growled out, and then launched himself off the bed, giving Ichigo all of half a second to retract his new claws before Grimmjow inadvertently shish-ke babbed himself on them.

Ichigo let out a squeak that he would later swear was nowhere _near_ as high-pitched, and then began to laugh when Grimmjow’s ‘attack’ devolved into the two of them rolling around his bedroom floor in a black-and-white ball of violence. 

This lasted right up until Grimmjow jabbed his fingers straight into his solar plexus, to which Ichigo retaliated by elbowing him in the stomach, leaving them both gasping for air like the idiots they were.

“You know,” a breathless Ichigo eventually got out as the two of them collapsed side-by-side on the floor, both panting harshly. “I bet I could do other stuff, too. Besides claws and fangs and other pointy things.”

Seeming curious despite knowing better, Grimmjow arched a dubious eyebrow at him. “…What kinda stuff?”

Ichigo bared a mouthful of pearly whites. “Pretty much whatever you want,” he said enticingly. “I don’t think there’s all that many limits to the ability.”

Ichigo saw Grimmjow’s throat working as he tried to vocalize his refusal, but clearly, his interest had been piqued. Capitalizing on the moment of weakness, Ichigo pushed himself up off the floor and swung one leg over Grimmjow’s hips to pin him in place, grabbing hold of both his wrists and slowly tugging them upward until Grimmjow’s arms were stretched out on the floor behind his head.

“There’s gotta be at least a couple fantasies you’ve been dying to try out,” Ichigo murmured, leaning in closer so their lips nearly brushed together. “Shoving your entire cock down my throat, maybe?” he suggested, mentally filing away the little hitch in Grimmjow’s breathing for later. “I’m pretty sure I could take it if I got rid of my gag reflex. And speaking of taking it…”

He released Grimmjow’s wrists and let his hands shimmy down the man’s arms, chest and hips, before finally grabbing hold of the two firm globes of his ass and squeezing tight. “I could even shrink my dick down a bit,” Ichigo mused aloud, while doing very little to suppress the massively cocky smirk that had found its way onto his face. “Might even get it in you that way.”

Grimmjow bared his teeth in a sneer, but the hardening length that Ichigo could feel pressing up against his butt in an increasingly insistent manner seemed like a much more reliable indication of Grimmjow’s feelings on the matter. Ichigo grinned right in his fucking face from less than an inch away. “I could stretch you out from the inside,” he suggested. “Have some fun while we work up to the real thing.”

Grimmjow let just the barest hint of a groan escape his lips, clearly losing the internal war he was waging with the common sense part of his brain, and Ichigo knew he’d all but won. He slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of Grimmjow’s pants and shimmied backwards over the hardwood floor as he tugged them down his legs. “And if that’s not enough for you…” Ichigo teased as he went in for the kill, “…maybe this’ll convince you.”

Grimmjow’s cock sprang free, and before it could even finish bouncing back, Ichigo quite literally swallowed the whole thing down in a single gulp; not letting himself be satisfied with just the shaft either, but unhinging his jaw and stretching his mouth beyond its normal limits so he could fit the whole undercarriage in, as well.

Grimmjow carved gouges into Ichigo’s floor with his nails when the first few inches of his manhood were enveloped by the tight, wet heat of Ichigo’s throat, while having his balls be fondled and rolled around on a sinfully supple tongue. The drawn-out groan he let out sounded like it had come all the way up from the very tips of his toes.

Humming in satisfaction with the results of his efforts, Ichigo pulled away while making sure to run his tongue over every inch of Grimmjow’s length on its way out. “…So? What do you say?” Ichigo asked rhetorically, as he licked his lips to emphasize his lingual dexterity some more.

He knew he had him when Grimmjow’s eyes followed the tip of his tongue as it moved around. Grimmjow swallowed. “…You better know what the fuck you’re doing, Kurosaki,” he muttered in a breathy voice that sounded much less like the warning it was probably intended to be, and more like a plea for Ichigo to hurry up and throw him down on the bed already so he could _really_ put that tongue to work.

Ichigo was only too happy to oblige.

He gathered Grimmjow up in his arms and flung him onto his mattress, already yanking off the man’s shoes and pants before he’d even had the time to settle. Ichigo’s own clothes helpfully dissolved into wisps of shadow at his mental command, and so it was that he clambered over the bed buck-naked and filled with an animalistic lust so intense even Grimmjow could only stare, wide-eyed, as Ichigo loomed over him.

Without warning, he flipped Grimmjow over onto his stomach and smushed his face down into the pillow with a firm hand on the back of his head. Having done that, Ichigo then dug his fingers into the man’s hips and pulled his cheeks apart with his thumbs, exposing the one part of Grimmjow Ichigo hadn’t yet acquainted himself with in a satisfactory manner. He licked his lips in anticipation, deciding that this would be the perfect opportunity to show Grimmjow the benefits of on-demand body modifications.

Just as Grimmjow reared his head up to express his discontent with the sudden rough treatment, Ichigo dove down on his exposed backside like a starving animal and promptly shoved the entirety of a six-inch-long tongue all the way up his ass.

 _“Jesus fucking—_ Christ, Kurosaki!” Grimmjow gasped out, his voice shaking almost as hard as the way his entire body kept convulsing while Ichigo ran his tongue along his insides, taking extra care to press the flat of it up against the firm lump of his prostate every time he passed it by.

Grimmjow butted his forehead back down into the pillow as though he was trying to ground himself in doing so; his fingers and toes repeatedly curling up and digging into the mattress as his throbbing, swollen cock dripped precum onto the bed sheets and desperate keens were milked from his lips in spite of his clear efforts to hold them back.

Once Ichigo was satisfied that Grimmjow’s insides were thoroughly slick--and long after the whimpers the man couldn’t stop himself from letting out had already taken on a hoarse quality--he pulled out and allowed his tongue to return to its normal size.

He hummed appreciatively as he kneaded Grimmjow’s cheeks, lining up his cock with the slick hole. “Don’t think I’ll even need to make it smaller,” he murmured, pressing the head up against Grimmjow’s ass just hard enough to feel the muscle clench on reflex as it tried to keep him out. “You look eager enough to take it as-is.”

“F-fuck, _Kurosaki…!”_ Grimmjow warbled out in a weak attempt at protesting, but Ichigo shushed him, sliding one hand over to his chest to graze a nipple with a pointed fingernail before digging into the meat of his pectoral with all five digits.

“Don’t worry, you can do it,” he said in a soothing voice, even as he used his unoccupied hand to spread out the steady stream of precum that came oozing from his slit pretty much on demand, covering the full length of his cock until it was just as slippery as Grimmjow’s insides. “I’ll go slow at first,” Ichigo promised, and drank in the gasp Grimmjow let out when he pushed against his entrance more insistently.

Ichigo chuckled when, after a second or two of indecision on his part, Grimmjow pressed his ass more firmly against Ichigo’s cock, as though inviting him in. “Just how long have you been waiting for me to do this, huh?” he asked, using one hand to keep his own length lined up properly, while using the other to reach between Grimmjow’s legs and begin massaging his sack. “How many times did you dream about me ramming you into this mattress while I filled you up with my cock?”

Grimmjow let out a sound halfway between a moan and a snarl as the ring of muscle opened up enough to allow another half-inch of his cock to slip past. Ichigo noticed the way Grimmjow had started clenching his teeth when it did, and so he backed off just a hair, gently rocking his hips back and forth without thrusting any deeper than he already had to give Grimmjow a chance to adjust.

“All this time you’ve been going after my ass, when it was really my cock you were lusting for all along, wasn’t it?” he teased, running his fingers along Grimmjow’s length and over the weeping slit. He drew back his hand to lick his fingers and give himself a taste. “You can’t even stop yourself from leaking all over the bed at just the thought.”

“Sh-shut the fuck up, Kurosaki,” Grimmjow groaned out, looking over his shoulder to give Ichigo the nastiest death glare he could muster, which wasn’t much of one in his current condition. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair was glistening with sweat and sticking up at odd angles from when he’d been headbutting the pillow.

Ichigo bared his teeth in a savage grin. He rather liked that look on Grimmjow, he decided. In fact, he wanted to see it from a better angle.

Grimmjow let out a surprised noise when Ichigo flipped him over yet again without asking for his input, and he scrambled to brace himself when Ichigo then tossed his legs over his shoulders and just about folded him in half when he leaned in to kiss him.

He wasn’t gentle about it either, yanking on the hair at the back of Grimmjow’s head and taking the opportunity to shove his tongue down his throat when the action made him gasp in surprise. Judging by how it left Grimmjow’s cock twitching and dripping more precum onto his own stomach, Ichigo made an educated guess that said the roughness was appreciated.

“The hell--the hell’s gotten into you, all of a sudden?” Grimmjow demanded, breathless, when Ichigo broke the kiss and lifted Grimmjow’s hips off the mattress a couple inches to give himself a better thrusting angle.

“What, you don’t like it?” Ichigo asked with a smirk as he once again began prodding insistently at Grimmjow’s rear end. “Your dick doesn’t look like it’s got any complaints, so far.”

Grimmjow worked his jaw for a second, the tips of his ears practically crimson at this point, before he ground out, “yeah, well it’s fucking biased; it doesn’t get a say in shit.”

Laughing, Ichigo turned his head to mouth at the inside of a raised thigh before biting down on it, making Grimmjow hiss and, at the same time, distracted him from the throbbing cock pressed up against his ass. Enough so for him to relax the muscle and allow Ichigo to slip the head in before he could clench back up.

All the breath left Grimmjow in one heaving exhale; his back arching up off the mattress while his eyes just about popped out of his head. “Fucking, _son of a-!”_ Grimmjow mumbled up at the ceiling, before slowly coming back down to rest on the bed again. _“…Bitch,”_ he finished after a short delay, even as Ichigo made an attempt at mollifying him by licking away the pinpricks of blood that were now beading atop his thigh.

“Why the fuck did you go and make your teeth all pointy, you shit?” Grimmjow complained, all the while taking fast, shallow breaths as his ass contracted rhythmically around Ichigo’s shaft.

Ichigo blinked in surprise. “I did?” he asked, thumbing at his teeth to test their sharpness and finding them noticeably pointier than usual, indeed. “I didn’t realize,” he admitted. “I’ll make ‘em go back to normal.”

“Nah. Don’t bother,” Grimmjow interjected, not meeting Ichigo’s eyes as he did. “…I didn’t exactly hate it,” he admitted. “Just… make sure you don’t tear my fucking dick off or some shit.”

Grinning wide enough to bear every single one of his apparently-pointy teeth, Ichigo returned his attention to the half-successful insertion they’d managed thus far, and decided it was high time they continued what they’d started. He placed his hands back on Grimmjow’s hips. “You ready?”

Grimmjow eyed him again, looking notably daunted by the prospect of taking in even more than he already had, but then swallowed and nodded, looking determined to--if nothing else--at least not give Ichigo any more of a reason to inflate his ego.

Grimmjow groaned as Ichigo slid in the next several inches, with Ichigo himself finding it harder and harder to remember to go slow as more of him was enveloped by the incredible sensations of being _inside_ Grimmjow, but managed to hold on to his fast-dwindling restraint long enough for him to sheathe himself all the way.

“You still okay?” he asked, just to make sure, and was rewarded with the stink eye for his troubles.

“’Course I’m fine,” Grimmjow griped. “Like I wouldn’t be able to take that shitty dick of yours; you ain’t _that_ fucking big. Don’t go getting full of yourself, Kurosaki.”

“Looks more like you’re full of _me_ from where I’m sitting,” Ichigo riposted with a grin, and he could clearly see Grimmjow’s irritation at having handed him that comeback on a silver platter.

Grimmjow let his head drop back down onto the pillow with a groan, covering his face with his arm so he wouldn’t have to look at Ichigo. “Just shut the fuck up and move already, shithead,” he murmured out, and Ichigo decided that finally having permission to fuck Grimmjow properly took priority over teasing him any further.

While at first, Grimmjow was still too tense to allow Ichigo to get any sort of a decent rhythm going, it wasn’t long before he’d adjusted enough for the sounds of slapping flesh to resound throughout the bedroom; nails digging into Ichigo’s back and the skin of his shoulders beginning to chafe from the friction with Grimmjow’s knees.

Ichigo let out a low, lingering groan once he was able to ram his cock in just the way he’d been dreaming of doing for months, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as he allowed bestial instinct to take over. 

The pace of his thrusts steadily picked up, and his fingernails dug ever-deepening crescents in Grimmjow’s ass as Ichigo’s fingers tensed further; his thumbs pressing against the edge of the man’s hip bones hard enough to leave fast-darkening bruises behind. While at first Grimmjow didn’t seem too bothered by this, his grunts and moans did eventually become interspersed by some pained-sounding hisses.

“O-oi! Slow the fuck down a bit!” Grimmjow warned, lifting his left leg up from where it had been resting on Ichigo’s shoulder to push against his chest with a foot. “You’re about to give me fucking friction burn, you dickhead!”

Feeling a spike of irritation at having his pleasure interrupted, Ichigo opened his eyes again, seeing Grimmjow furrow his brows when, rather than backing off, Ichigo pushed back against the foot and carried on unabated.

“I said slow down, dammit!” Grimmjow insisted, kicking him in the pectoral muscle hard enough to bruise. “Also, the teeth were one thing, but what the fuck are the horns for?!”

His horns? Had they grown to their full length without him noticing? 

If the streaks of obsidian on the edges of Ichigo’s field of vision were any indication, then they had, indeed.

Ichigo slowed his pace, much to Grimmjow’s obvious relief, and the man let his foot drop back down as he exhaled. “Finally. Didn’t you fucking hear me the first-?!”

Just as Grimmjow had been starting to relax, he tensed up once more when clawed hands wound their way around his throat. Ichigo felt the man’s pulse quicken dramatically as one of his thumbs brushed over a jugular vein. “You talk too much,” he admonished Grimmjow with a smirk, pressing down on his windpipe and continuing his thrusts into Grimmjow’s suddenly much tighter hole. “Just enjoy it.”

Wide-eyed and panicked, Grimmjow began clawing away at Ichigo’s arms as he gasped and struggled for breath, quickly drawing blood. Ichigo didn’t let it bother him, continuing to spear the other man on his throbbing cock and indulging in the glorious sensations that doing so rewarded him with. Grimmjow’s insides clamped down around him like a hot, wet vice while he struggled desperately for breath, and the resulting tightness caused Ichigo’s orgasm to creep up on him a lot faster than he was happy with.

He wasn’t quite ready to let this end yet, after all.

He released his grip on Grimmjow’s neck and pulled out of him fully, allowing Grimmjow to draw in a wheezing breath while Ichigo busied himself with observing the glimmer of fresh blood that coated the tips of his clawed fingers.

_Grimmjow’s blood._

Only then did he notice the five or six shallow gashes he’d left in the man’s throat where he must have pressed hard enough to break skin.

“Wha- _what the fuck was that?!”_ Grimmjow demanded as soon as he had the breath to do so. “Are you out of your freaking mind?! I thought you were trying to kill me, you asshole!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Ichigo waved off his complaints, leaning in closer with his head tilted so that he wouldn’t shove his horns through Grimmjow’s eye sockets. “Besides,” he practically purred, “I thought you liked it when I got a little rough?”

“There’s a huge fucking gap between that little bite from earlier and you suddenly trying to choke me like some damned lunatic, Kurosaki!” Grimmjow screamed right in his face. He prodded at the skin of his throat and snarled when his fingers came back bloody. “If you’d pressed down any harder you could have torn open my jugular with those things!” he ranted, focusing on Ichigo’s black, elongated fingernails.

He met Ichigo’s gaze again, pupils gone narrow with indignant rage. “I fucking knew this shit was a bad idea! Turn yourself back to normal already before this gets any more out of hand!”

Ichigo’s smile slid off his face when Grimmjow’s words struck home. 

Stop now? Just when things were starting to get good? Just because Grimmjow didn’t trust him to control himself anymore?

_…What a hypocrite._

“I get it,” Ichigo stated in a measured tone, rearing back a bit and straightening out his back. “You can’t deal with me being the dominant one for a change, huh?” he asked, bringing his bloodied nails up to inspect them more closely. “You still can’t stand seeing me be above you in any way.”

Grimmjow blinked in bewilderment. “Wha-?! How in the _fuck_ is that even remotely _close_ to what I was-?!” Abruptly, he cut himself off mid-sentence, and Ichigo could see why: the gashes Grimmjow had left on his arms while trying to break free of Ichigo’s grip were melting away before their eyes, the wounds sealing shut all on their own.

Ichigo’s own Regenerative powers couldn’t do that. Angra’s, however, most definitely could.

“You’ve still gotta be the King, even when it’s just the two of us,” Ichigo went right on, as though Grimmjow hadn’t spoken. He licked at the blood, savoring the taste of Grimmjow’s Spiritual Energy contained within. “…Luckily, I think I know how to let us both get what we want.”

Grimmjow worked his jaw, and before he had the chance to get his thoughts in order, Ichigo lunged at him, sinking his teeth into the flesh connecting his neck and shoulder and ensuring that the only thing being vocalized was a wordless, pained snarl.

Warm blood trickled into his mouth, and as hard as Grimmjow tried to push him away, Ichigo still managed to stick around long enough to lap up a good mouthful before he was forced back.

Grimmjow went downright _feral_ in his rage, screaming and kicking at Ichigo’s chest as he pressed a hand to his wound to stem the bleeding, but Ichigo ignored him, focusing instead on absorbing the blood he’d just taken into his system.

To truly take on someone else’s form and power, he’d need to devour their soul in its entirety, but for a simple outward change? A small taste would do just fine.

Closing his eyes, Ichigo felt his skin begin to stretch and his bones expand; his shoulders broadening and his spine popping loudly as he tacked on an extra inch in height. As his transformation progressed, Grimmjow’s barrage of kicks and punches slowed to a stop, and when Ichigo opened his eyes again, he found an utterly dumbstruck Grimmjow staring back at him.

“Well, what do you know,” Ichigo spoke in a deeper, much more gravelly voice than his own. He rubbed a large hand over his more pronounced jawline and bared a mouthful of perfectly straight teeth. “It _does_ feel good being you. No wonder you’re always so cocky.”

He got up from the bed and padded across the room, observing the way the muscles in his thicker thighs and more rounded backside moved as he walked around. He’d always been rather flat back there, himself, to his eternal disappointment.

The whole time, Grimmjow kept on watching him in total silence, almost not daring to breathe, even. Blood was trickling down his chest but he didn’t seem to notice it. No, his attention was reserved for Ichigo alone; his gaze never straying as he slowly-- _cautiously,_ as though afraid to make any sudden movements--repositioned himself to sit on the edge of the bed. His cock lay limp and shrunken between his legs, but Ichigo planned to coax it back to standing at full attention in due time.

Once Ichigo reached his wall-mounted dressing mirror, he began running his hands down his broader chest, mapping every dip and ridge of his ribs and muscles. “Christ, just look at you,” Ichigo spoke, trailing his fingers over rock-hard abdominals before dipping lower to cup his own balls. “Not an ounce of body fat anywhere; you’re all just lean, hard muscle.”

He angled himself sideways, watching his erection sway with the motion. “Hell, even your dick looks like it could belong on some freaking supermodel.” He gave it an experimental tug or two before swiping his thumb over the exposed glans. “Might not be as big as my own, but it’s better-looking, alright.”

He watched himself smirk within the mirror, his sky-blue hair and cerulean eyes making for an interesting contrast with the obsidian horns that still jutted out from his temples, and then turned around to face the real Grimmjow again.

“Well? What do you think?” Ichigo asked as he padded back over. He grabbed Grimmjow by the chin once he was close enough, and forced him to look up at him; Grimmjow’s wide, unblinking eyes looking nothing like the ones he’d just seen reflected in the mirror. “I’m the King, now,” he murmured. “So start acting like it.”

Adjusting his grip to cover Grimmjow’s mouth and most of his face, Ichigo slammed him back down onto the bed, immediately seating himself atop the man’s chest to keep him from getting back up. 

“Bet you’ve thought of doing this plenty of times,” Ichigo rumbled out, watching with satisfaction as shadowy Chains came slithering up from underneath the bed at his mental command to hold Grimmjow’s wrists and ankles in place. “Though you probably never imagined yourself on the receiving end, huh?”

Grimmjow’s body jerked reflexively when the cold metal of the Chains brushed against his skin, and he let out a muffled cry when they wound themselves into tight, unyielding loops.

Ichigo watched on with satisfaction, yet couldn’t help but feel some irritation bubbling up when Grimmjow’s incomprehensible cries only grew louder and more persistent. He didn’t feel inclined to let him vocalize whatever he was so fervently trying to say, and instead forced a thumb into Grimmjow’s mouth and stuck it all the way between his molars, preventing him from closing it again.

_“Kurosa-!”_

Grimmjow tried to speak his name, this time with a definite hint of desperation to it, but Ichigo found it delightfully easy to shut him up by tickling the back of his throat with his cock.

“You like the taste of your own dick?” Ichigo asked, slotting his knees into Grimmjow’s armpits and rolling his hips slowly as he fucked Grimmjow’s mouth at a languid pace, arms stretched out overhead to lean against the wall for balance. Grimmjow coughed and sputtered on every thrust, his body seizing within the Chains, but Ichigo knew full-well that he could take at least that much, and more. “Gotta admit I grew kinda fond of it, myself,” he grunted out in the same gravelly, seductive timbre that always managed to send shivers down his own spine. Good thing too, considering you start leaking precum like a fucking fire hydrant once you get into it.”

As proof, he pulled out just long enough to smear some of the stuff out over Grimmjow’s upper lip, giving him a chance to breathe, and then shoved his length right back in there. “Oh, come on,” Ichigo grumbled when Grimmjow immediately started coughing. “I’ve seen you scarf down most of my own dick without any trouble; this one shouldn’t be anywhere near as much of a choking hazard.”

Using his free hand to grab onto a solid clump of Grimmjow’s hair, Ichigo yanked his head up so he’d be able to clearly see his face in the moment where Grimmjow was made to swallow down his come, and began thrusting in earnest. the hearboard banigng into the wall repeatedly with the roughness of his movements.

Grimmjow bit down harder and harder on his thumb the longer his air supply remained cut off, probably drawing quite a bit of blood in the process, but Ichigo wasn’t inclined to let that stop him. Instead, he carried right on, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as his release drew near.

Then, just as his orgasm was about to rush up on him, Grimmjow—having gone rather blue in the face after a full minute of having his throat closed off—released a sudden, massive eruption of Spiritual Pressure, and Ichigo pulled out just in time to save his dick from the maw of pointed fangs that snapped shut and bit his thumb clean off.

The legs of the bed gave out and Ichigo’s Black Chains shattered to pieces; neither proving a match for the sheer bulk of Grimmjow’s Segunda Etapa, and Ichigo found himself being flung against the dresser at the foot end of the bed when Grimmjow carved four lines of burning, brilliant pain into his abdomen with a swipe from Byakko’s _Claw_. Ichigo’s own severed thumb landed on the sheets when Grimmjow spat it out right in front of him.

 _“That’s ENOUGH!”_ Grimmjow snarled, the sheer magnitude of his voice in his werelion form leaving every one of Ichigo’s bones reverberating from the sonic assault. “Get a hold of yourself, right now, Kurosaki!” he ordered, one gigantic, bestial hand squishing Ichigo flat against the mattress with monstrous strength. Ichigo was shocked to note that even now that he’d adopted Grimmjow’s broader physique, each of those hands still could have easily wrapped around his entire waist.

Unable to move much, pinned in place as he was with that titanic pressure on his chest and his neck pincered between claw-bearing thumb and index fingers, Ichigo still raised his head to meet Grimmjow’s gaze. He drank in the look of shock and dismay that appeared on the man’s leonine features when he did.

 **“Finally ready to play rough, are you?”** Ichigo asked in a voice that sounded like neither his own nor Grimmjow’s, but one they were both intimately familiar with all the same.

“Y- your eyes—!” Grimmjow gasped out, momentarily distracted enough for him to miss the new set of Chains that came rocketing toward him from the shadowy corners of the room.

The shackles immediately wrapped themselves around his neck and drew tight, triggering an instinctual reaction as Grimmjow tried to pull them away from his throat.

As Ichigo bared his teeth in a wicked grin, the chains retracted and forcibly yanked Grimmjow back, the werelion’s fearsome claws nearly decapitating him when they sliced through the vulnerable skin of his neck.

A spray of arterial blood went gushing out, and even occupied as he was, struggling against the Chains’ attempts to bind him, Grimmjow still cried out in dismay at the sight and reached out to try and help. Ichigo smiled a bloody smile.

How _sweet._

He undid his transformation, blue hair shifting back to his regular orange as his limbs and torso slimmed down to their normal dimensions. The gaping tears in his neck and stomach sealed themselves shut, and a brand-new thumb grew in to replace the digit he’d lost.

Pale arms covered in black veins appeared in Ichigo’s field of vision as he crawled over the bed to return to Grimmjow’s side. The bars of the metal headboard groaned in protest as Grimmjow redoubled his struggles against his bindings when he saw Ichigo drawing nearer, his muscular back forcing them to bend and deform as he thrashed around in place.

His arms had been forcibly spread out on either side of him, several feet worth of Black Chains coiled around them to hold the limbs in place, with the ends of the Chains anchoring themselves deep within the walls and floorboards, which were now beginning to show cracks and steadily splintering apart, respectively.

Amused by Grimmjow’s fierce resistance, Ichigo bullied his way between his legs and forced them apart, more Chains digging their way up through the mattress from below to wrap themselves around his ankles and keep them spread.

When he was finally directly in front of Grimmjow, Ichigo tenderly ran his clawed fingers through the thick blue fur of his mane, feeling the man’s heart pounding madly underneath.

His fingers found their way to his abdomen next, trailing over the expanse of shorter, white fur there, before finally meeting rigid, bone plating when they reached Grimmjow’s groin. Ichigo frowned at it. **“Well, that won’t do,”** he muttered, and pressed his palm flat against the armor, watching it blacken and crumble away piece by piece as his corrosive Spirit Energy seeped into the material and unmade it.

“Stop it, Kurosaki!” Grimmjow pleaded again, continuing to trash against his ever-increasing number of restraints long after it had already become clear that doing so was pointless.

 **“Stop? Now?”** Ichigo asked him, running his hands over Grimmjow’s inner thighs, the bulging muscles of his quads, and finally his backside, feeling the armor peel away everywhere he touched. **“Just when you’re finally in a form where I don’t have to worry about accidentally breaking you anymore? I don’t think so.”**

He reined in his power to keep from doing unnecessary damage once enough of the bone armor had been destroyed, and then ran his fingers over the fine, soft fur that covered Grimmjow’s most intimate places. The thought that no one, not even Grimmjow himself had ever seen, let alone touched those places while he was in this form filled Ichigo with a possessive sort of satisfaction, and so he made sure to thoroughly indulge himself.

He played with the fuzzy pair of balls that were drawn close to Grimmjow’s lower abdomen for a good long while in spite of Grimmjow’s repeated attempts to shy away from his touch, and was eventually rewarded for his efforts when a bright pink, mostly human-looking penis emerged from some internal hiding place as it grew engorged. 

The main differences, other than the sheer size of the thing, was that it appeared to be completely self-lubricating, which seemed like a big plus to Ichigo; but also that it had a collection of tiny, downward-facing spines located just under the rim of his swollen glans, which seemed very much like a negative.

 **“I honestly wasn’t expecting that,”** Ichigo commented, as he finally left Grimmjow’s balls alone in favor of toying with the newest surprise highlight he’d uncovered. Some more of Ichigo’s own, more spirited speech pattern emerged again while he was focused on his new discovery, but the deep reverb effect it still had could only be attributed to the Demon inside of him.

**“Judging by the look on your face, neither were you,”** Ichigo teased, the corner of his mouth ticking upward as he saw Grimmjow’s wide-eyed stare-off with his own dick.

Grimmjow drew in a breath when Ichigo grabbed hold of his odd-looking member without hesitation, already attempting an experimental stroke. **“Oh,”** he remarked when he felt the spines prickling the skin of his palm on the upward movement. **“That feels like it’d hurt. I mean, I was already planning on topping, but that settles it.”**

He carried on for a little while longer; just until he was sure Grimmjow was fully erect, and then leaned back, letting his own cock jut forward to compare the two. **“I bet even my dick wouldn’t be big enough to fill you up when you’re like this though,”** he mused aloud when he saw how he measured up to the heat Grimmjow was now packing. **“It’s just not really proportionate anymore, is it?”**

As he looked around and noted how the muscly thighs encircling him alone were each about the width of his entire torso, that only seemed all the more obvious. He turned to face Grimmjow again. **“Guess I’ll have to do something about that,”** he murmured with a black-toothed smirk, and began the process of reshaping his body once more.

Three-toed talons sliced through the mattress as Ichigo braced his feet, and the dresser at his back fell over with a clatter of wood on wood when a heavy, lizard-like tail smacked into it.

Large, lethal spines erupted from both his shoulders, and even though he was being cautious in touching him, the scythe-like claws that his pale white fingers now tapered off into still caused the fur on Grimmjow’s thighs to become smudged pink when they broke his skin.

 **“This should work, don’t you think?”** Ichigo asked, brushing aside the curtain of shaggy orange hair that hung in front of his face and to drape it over his back, leaving just a few strands to trail down his chest. A long tongue briefly flitted past pale lips as Ichigo wetted them, and he smirked at the look on Grimmjow’s face when he eyed the monster hanging heavy between Ichigo’s legs.

Even Ichigo wasn’t sure where’d he’d gotten the inspiration for it, let alone which of the million souls inside of him he’d called upon to give it shape, but regardless of who or where it had come from, the thing was practically an X-rated work of art, in Ichigo’s modest opinion.

The monstrous cock consisted of a pale, vein-covered white sheathe, which was now pulled all the way back and bulging up at the base, and a dark crimson, awe-inspiringly huge shaft that jutted out from it. It throbbed in tune with Ichigo’s heartbeat, jumping a little as if it knew it was at the center of attention as he and Grimmjow both stared at it.

It was nearly the length of a human forearm, possessed a girth comparable to the diameter of a clenched fist, and was dripping from base to tip with translucent slick. Large bumps lined the center of its broad underside, like scales on a dragon’s belly; significantly firmer to the touch than the rest of it, but still with a bit of give to them. 

**“I almost wish I could try this one out myself. Just imagine how amazing these’ll feel when they go in,”** Ichigo murmured, running the pads of his fingers along the trail of bumps, each successive one bigger than the last as they got closer to the base of his cock.

The head, glistening with both precum and whatever substance the thing used to self-lubricate, was bulbous and vaguely strawberry-shaped, with a noticeable, smooth ridge where it transitioned into the shaft that ensured it would be leaving an impression on every fold and bump of Grimmjow’s internal topography.

“There’s no fucking way that thing’ll fit me!” Grimmjow cried out, once again beginning to thrash against the chains holding him in place. The wall they were anchored to cracked, and some dust rained down from the ceiling, but ultimately his fetters held.

Ichigo chuckled lowly. **“Don’t sell yourself short now,”** he murmured against Grimmjow’s inner thigh as he raised his right leg, holding it in an unyielding grip as he dissolved the Chains that had been pinning the limb down, and didn’t let go until a new set of shadowy shackles had materialized from the wall to wrap around his knee and pull the leg as far back as was possible.

Ichigo then repeated the process with Grimmjow’s left leg, leaving him fully exposed and ready for the taking. **“We haven’t even tried yet; you might just be surprised at what you can do once you put your mind to it,”** Ichigo teased, before leaning back down and running his tongue all over Grimmjow’s tensed-up entrance.

“Kurosaki there’s no—no fucking way in hell that’s ever going to—to…” Grimmjow trailed off, right around the same time that Ichigo’s tongue plunged past the suddenly loosening ring of muscle. “Wha—what the fuck did you just do?!”

Ichigo reared up again, flashing Grimmjow a devilish smile as he ran his dexterous tongue along the front of his teeth. **“My saliva works as a muscle relaxant,”** he admitted. **“Don’t worry though, it’ll wear off in a couple minutes. I bet you won’t even need it by then.”**

Ignoring the rest of Grimmjow’s sputtered protests, Ichigo lined himself up and pressed his throbbing cockhead against his entrance. It parted for him readily as he inserted the first half-inch, but needed a bit more convincing as his girth increased rather rapidly after that, and Ichigo was left rocking back and forth on his heels for a minute or two as he worked it open all the way.

Just as he was considering putting his tongue to work again, Grimmjow grunts suddenly became notably higher-pitched, and he opened his mouth to take quick, gasping breaths as the flared part of Ichigo’s glans finally slipped past his sphincter muscle, causing a trickle of clear lubricant to drip down onto the mattress as Grimmjow’s ass clamped down hard on his shaft.

Soothingly, Ichigo brushed the pads of his fingers over the fur that covered Grimmjow’s buttocks. **“See?”** he encouraged him, **“Told you you could do it.”**

“The hell I can,” Grimmjow groaned out in a hoarse, breathless voice. “Pull that fucking thing out of me before you kill me, Kurosaki!”

 **“You sure that’s what you want?”** Ichigo teased, using one hand to give Grimmjow’s leaking, painfully swollen cock another couple of strokes. **“Your dick seems to be disagreeing with you. Or is it still biased, you think?”**

Grimmjow’s lips stretched out into a sneer. “You think this is fucking funny?!” he demanded, trying to launch himself forward only to be held back by the Chains. “I told you this was a stupid idea! And look what happened when you didn’t listen, you black-eyed son of a bitch!”

 **“What happened?”** Ichigo repeated sardonically, tilting his head. **“You mean how we’re both just a couple minutes away from the most mind-blowing orgasms we’ve ever had? How we shared our inner beasts with each other in ways we’d never even dreamed of before?”** He tightened his grip, milking another trickle of precum out of Grimmjow along with a moan he failed to suppress.

Without warning, Ichigo’s voice dropped another octave, and Grimmjow flinched back involuntarily when he spoke again. **“In a world filled with weaklings, you are the first ever to allow me to indulge myself to this extent without breaking.”** Slitted pupils and pitch-black irises were reflected back from within Grimmjow’s own eyes. **“Kurosaki Ichigo loves you dearly with every fiber of his being, but I? I am** **_intrigued,_ ** **Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. If he gave into me fully, and together we gave rise to a new Demon, would life truly be so terrible so long as you were at our side?”**

Just as suddenly, Ichigo’s intonation shifted back. **“I honestly don’t think I’d hate it,”** he admitted in a much softer voice. **“I could stop fighting and just…** **_be,”_ ** he whispered. **“As long as I was with you, it’d be alright.”**

“Kurosaki…” Grimmjow started to say, but Ichigo cut him off, shaking his head. 

**“Don’t. Just for tonight; just this once—don’t fight it. Don’t make** **_me_ ** **fight it.”** His horns prevented him from kissing Grimmjow the way he really wanted to, so instead he cupped his cheek with utmost caution, and pressed his lips to his forehead. **“Just enjoy it,”** he whispered, begged, _pleaded_ with him. **_“Please.”_ **

For a long moment, Grimmjow did nothing but stare. His chest was still heaving, limited to taking fast, shallow breaths as he was in his current position, and cooling sweat had plastered much of his long, blue hair to his forehead and cheeks. The tip of his tail, which sat pinned underneath Ichigo’s right leg, twitched a couple times in agitation, smacking softly against the bed. 

Then, finally, the man closed his eyes and exhaled. “…You can move now,” he muttered under his breath, looking off to the side rather than meeting Ichigo’s gaze, and Ichigo almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Just go _real_ fucking slow, you hear me?”

As his breathing turned ragged for just a second, Ichigo let out a shuddering exhale, and he allowed the Chains that bound Grimmjow’s knees to dissipate into wisps of shadow. One by one, the man’s calves came down to rest atop Ichigo’s shoulders, right beside the rows of deadly spines, and Ichigo turned his head to press a grateful kiss to the inside of one thigh.

His erection had flagged considerably during that interruption, but now, it quickly regained its rigidity, and Grimmjow hissed as he once again found himself being stretched to capacity. 

Sliding his hands down Grimmjow’s legs, Ichigo reached underneath his hips to lift him up from the bed and then slowly began shuffling closer with his knees, sheathing himself inch by wonderful inch and also allowing Grimmjow to rest some of his weight on his lap. 

With every bump along the underside of his cock that slipped past the rim of Grimmjow’s hole, the man let an increasingly louder moan to match the bumps’ waxing size until, to their shared disbelief, Ichigo was in all the way to the hilt, Grimmjow’s ass clamping down on the thickest part of him so tightly that it felt as though it would never be letting him go again.

“Holy fucking shit,” Grimmjow uttered in a near-whimper, understandably left breathless. He looked down between his legs at where Ichigo’s gigantic cock had fully disappeared inside of himself with an expression close to horror.

Ichigo, if possible, sounded even more overwhelmed. **_“Christ,”_** he muttered, as he pressed down on Grimmjow’s abdomen with his palm, right over the notable bulge that had appeared there. **“I can actually… see myself moving around inside you.”**

“God, don’t fucking _say_ it,” Grimmjow all but whined, hiding his face as well as he could with the limited range of motion he was allowed. Ichigo took pity on him and released his left arm from its restraints as well.

 **“Come here,”** Ichigo murmured, guiding Grimmjow’s freed hand down to his own stomach. He pulled out of Grimmjow most of the way, then slowly inserted himself again, making sure Grimmjow felt it when the head of his cock pushed back against his palm from the inside. **“Pretty amazing, huh?”**

Grimmjow appeared to have gone nonverbal, his mouth hanging open and his sweaty, limp hair hiding one of his eyes. Yet he kept his hand where it was, even pressing down harder whenever Ichigo thrust in all the way, blatantly fascinated by the sensation.

 **“You wanna turn around?”** Ichigo asked him in between thrusts. Grimmjow’s eyes locked on to his own. **“You could feel those bumps against your prostate if you did,”** he enticed, and Grimmjow’s cock actually jumped at that.

Ichigo smirked again, and while Grimmjow’s cheeks were nearly the same dark crimson color now as the monster of a cock that was currently spearing into him over and over again, Ichigo noted that he wasn’t saying no to the idea.

The final shackles holding Grimmjow dissipated, and he cautiously lowered his hands to rest on the bed, as if unsure of how to act now that he was free to move again.

 **“I’m gonna pull out, okay?”** Ichigo warned, and Grimmjow’s face scrunched up when the flared base of his cockhead caught on the rim of his hole, forcing it to stretch even further before it could release him.

Grimmjow let out a loud, almost pained gasp when Ichigo finally slipped all the way out; more of the colorless slick pouring from his abused hole when it was finally allowed to contract again.

Ichigo shuffled back to the end of the bed, waiting to see what Grimmjow would do. To his delight, the man actually rolled over onto his side after giving himself a minute to recover, and then sat up on his knees before bending over and offering himself to Ichigo.

“Don’t just fucking sit there and watch, you shit.” Grimmjow complained when he caught Ichigo doing just that. “Get to it already.”

Ichigo didn’t need to be told twice. He clambered over to mount Grimmjow, briefly distracting himself by playing with the viscous liquid that kept on dripping down the inside of his thighs, but then began to guide himself back into the wonderful, tight heat of Grimmjow’s insides.

 **“See?”** Ichigo pointed out when as he fully seated himself again, the words almost going unheard over the loud, whimpering moans Grimmjow let out as the bumps popped back into him one at a time, with much less difficulty than they had the first time around. **“Told you you’d be able to take it without any help.”**

He grabbed Grimmjow’s hips as he resumed his thrusting and slowly began to drive up the pace, leaving several tiny cuts with his claws that Grimmjow never even noticed with the way his prostate was being so wonderfully abused by all the curves and ridges grinding against it.

More and more precum trickled from Grimmjow’s cock to pool onto the mattress, and it wasn’t long before his arms gave out and he fell face-first onto the bed, attempting to stifle his moans into the mattress.

Ichigo grabbed onto his shoulders from behind, switching to _brutal,_ pistoning thrusts that left the slapping of his thighs against Grimmjow’s ass echoing throughout the room.

His claws sank into Grimmjow’s flesh as Ichigo lost himself to instinct and raw pleasure, the ever-mounting crescendo of Grimmjow’s moans acting like a drug that fogged up his mind and squashed any lingering inhibitions he still had.

Grimmjow’s cock kept on leaking uncontrollably, his ass clenching ever tighter around Ichigo, and Ichigo felt his prostate swelling up into a hard lump that only added to the friction with the bumpy underside of his cock.

Ichigo lost whatever shred of sanity he’d still been clinging on to.

He dug his clawed fingers into Grimmjow’s abdomen, trying to grip his own cock from the outside and simultaneously keep Grimmjow from collapsing as his own orgasm had his knees giving out on him; a wordless snarl ripping its way free of Ichigo’s throat as blood trickled between his fingers; his talons parting skin and muscle fibers alike with all the ease of fabric shears rending silk.

The warm, slippery sensation of Grimmjow’s guts left his fingers atingle, and the screams of pain and pleasure the man let out drove Ichigo mad in every way as he tipped his head back and filled him with his seed; wave after wave after wave of pure, mind numbing pleasure slamming into him _until—_

 _Until he snapped awake,_ his hips uncontrollably bucking up off the bed as a patch of warm wetness spread out across the front of his underwear.

Letting out a silent gasp, Ichigo sank back into the mattress, breathing heavily as the aftershocks of his orgasm had his lower half convulsing for several seconds afterward.

A hand brushed against his shoulder, and Ichigo flinched away from it on instinct, already trying to materialize Zangetsu before he realized he was in his human body, and that it was only Grimmjow who’d touched him.

“’Nother nightmare?” the man grumbled out without so much as lifting his head up from his pillow, cerulean eyes bleary with sleep. “You’re all jumpy an’ shit,” Grimmjow observed. “The fuck was that thing putting in your head this time?”

Ichigo sighed in relief, then tensed back up when the cooling wet spot in his boxers grabbed his attention again. “I’m fine,” he assured Grimmjow in clipped tones. “Just… gotta use the bathroom real quick.”

He threw the sheets off of himself and swung his legs out of bed, moving fast so he could dodge the hand Grimmjow reached out to him with, and was already shutting the door behind him before Grimmjow could even finish calling his name.

Leaning against the doorframe, Ichigo took several breaths to try and calm his racing heart, then padded down the hallway barefoot and clad in only his soiled underwear. The moment the bathroom door was locked behind him, Ichigo peeled it off and buried it all the way at the bottom of the dirty clothes hamper, resolving to get up before dawn tomorrow so he could beat Yuzu to doing the laundry.

Left fully naked now, Ichigo grabbed onto the sides of the wash basin and let his head hang as he tried to gather his thoughts, cheeks burning with shame as snippets of the dream flashed before his mind’s eye. “…You trying to embarrass me into having a mental breakdown now?” he gritted out, finally looking up at the mirror when a familiar chuckling sounded.

**“Not at all.”**

His pale-skinned, black-eyed mirror image stared back at him, that insufferable grin ever-present. Ichigo clamped on to the ceramic of the washbasin hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. **“I’ll admit I added certain…** **_embellishments,_ ** **shall we say, but everything you saw; everything you** **_did…_ ** **all of it was inspired by your own deepest, darkest desires.”**

“Bullshit!” Ichigo snapped back, hissing the word out to keep himself from raising his voice and alerting Grimmjow or his family. “I’d never do those things to him!” he insisted, phantom sensations of claws drawing blood and his cock forcing itself into that wonderful, wet heat sending shivers down his spine. “I… I could never hurt him like that, much less want to!”

The Demon within the mirror laughed. **“You cannot lie to me any more than you can lie to yourself, Kurosaki Ichigo,”** it said before its eyes dipped lower. **“…Your body even less so.”**

Another hot spike of shame shot through him when his swollen, half-erect manhood throbbed; more residual images from the dream forcing themselves to the forefront of his thoughts and involuntarily making his breath quicken.

He opened his mouth to snarl at the Demon, but saw only his own face staring back at him; brown eyes filled with a smoldering, impotent rage now that he no one but himself to direct his frustrations at. 

Gritting his teeth, he reached for a washcloth, and began cleaning himself up.

* * *

When he slipped back into bed a little while later, dressed in a fresh pair of boxers and clear of any lingering evidence of how the dream had affected him, he found Grimmjow still awake and waiting for him.

“You good now?” he asked softly, and with a clear undercurrent of concern coloring his gruff tone.

“Yeah,” Ichigo affirmed, laying down on his side so he could meet Grimmjow’s gaze. “Just needed a minute to myself.”

Grimmjow grunted in acknowledgement. “It’s fine if you need space after whatever bullshit that thing puts you through, but you don’t have to fucking run away from me like that,” he sulked, putting up a prickly front. “Whatever it made you think you did, I sure as hell ain’t about to judge you for it.”

Ichigo couldn’t help but smile. “…I know,” he affirmed.

“Good. Now go the fuck to sleep,” Grimmjow ordered as he made himself comfortable in preparation of doing just that. Ichigo watched him for a bit longer, the churning in his gut slowly easing as Grimmjow’s reassurance sank in.

And yet… he couldn’t help but wonder.

Would this Grimmjow react the same way should he come face to face with Ichigo’s inner darkness? Would he accept what he became, or resist with every fiber of his being?

...Would he, perhaps, try to kill him?

Ichigo’s smile gained a sharp edge to it. A small part of him wanted nothing more than to find out. 

One thing at least he could already be sure of, however: dream or not, Grimmjow might bend, but he’d never, _ever_ break. After all...

Reflected within Grimmjow’s eyes, black irises glittered like scarabs. **“…You can take just about anything I could throw at you.”**

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [Messier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Messier_47) for being an amazingly helpful beta reader! She's got a bunch of amazing fics of her own, so if you're in the mood for more, go ahead and check out her profile!
> 
> The banner image that inspired this whole thing is courtesy of Owari herself; if you'd like to see more of her artwork, you can check out her Tumblr page [here.](https://owari26.tumblr.com/)


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